New York better than I did and to have pleasant times. Had some friendly
chats with Kate Hillard last week, & went with her to call on Mrs. Putman
Jacobi, who has a little baby 3 weeks old & is still in her room, but has
got through very nicely--She talks well, doesn't she? & has a face with
plenty of individuality in it. Also we went together on Saturday again to
one of Miss Booth's receptions, & there met Mrs. Croly, & had the best
talk about you I have had this long while. I like her cordiality--we are
going to her reception on Sunday & to one at Mrs. Bigelow's Wednesday. It
is true there is not much that can be called social enjoyment at these
crowded receptions, but they enable you to start many acquaintanceships,
some of which turn out lasting good. We had some fine harp playing & a
witty recital at Miss Booth's. Miss Selous is back in America. I should
not wonder if she comes on here soon. Bee is living at the Dispensary now,
instead of in the Hospital, & finds the comparatively outdoor life--& the
freedom from being "whistled" for all hours of the day and night as she
was there--a wonderful refreshment. That coloured lady, Mrs. Wiley, whom
you met once at our house, is her fellow labourer & room mate at the
Dispensary. Bee likes her much. I am not sure whether you know the
Gilders? We spent a couple of hours delightfully with them yesterday
afternoon. She has a very attractive face, a musical voice, & such a sweet
smile. They are going to Europe for a four months' holiday this spring. I
admire the simple, unconventional way in which they live. Herby is working
away in the best spirits. He is going to paint that bowling alley subject
on a large scale. Giddy is sitting by me with her nose in the French
Dictionary, working away at a novel of Balzac's. I have had scarcely any
letters from England lately!--and the papers bring none but dismal
tidings; nevertheless I don't believe our sun is going down yet awhile--we
shall emerge from this dark crisis the better, not the worse, because
compelled to grapple with the evils that have caused it, instead of
passively enduring them. Please give friendly remembrance from me to your
brothers & sister. Have you been at Kirkwood lately, I wonder? I suppose
Timber Creek is frozen over. Good-bye, dear Friend. Write soon, or better
still Come!
A. GILCHRIST.
LETTER XLVI
HERBERT H. GILCHRIST TO WALT WHITMAN
_New York
112 Madison Avenue
February 2nd, 1879._
DEAR DARLING WALT:
I read your long piece in the Philadelphia _Times_ with ever so much
interest, & with especial delight the delicately told bit about the dear
old Pond, artistic, because so true. I know that it will please you to
hear that I have gained tenfold facility with my brush since the autumn.
It has agreed uncommonly well with me having enlisted under such an
experienced & able painter as Chase; as a manipulator of the brush he is
agreed by the experts (Eaton) to have no rival. I may yet be able to paint
a head of you in _one_ sitting that will do justice to you. Three of my
pictures are nicely hung at the Water Colour Exhibition Academy of Design,
the first time that I have exhibited in New York. We had two & three
engagements every night (with one exception) last week, & go to Mrs.
Croley's to-night. Your friend John Burroughs called last Wednesday--came
to try Turkish baths for his malarious trouble, but it seemed to bring on
his attacks of neuralgia worse. I am sorry that I can report but poorly of
his health, so painfully excruciating was his neuralgia about his arms at
times that a Dr. was sent for & morphia injected in his wrist, but I am
glad to say he reported himself a little better. He hopes that you will
come and give the lecture on Lincoln this winter; why not, confound it, it
would be most interesting.
Quite often we go to Miss Booth's receptions. Saturday evening, they are
gay & amusing. Met Mr. Bliss, the gentleman that talked like "a house
afire" one Sunday at your house last winter, you remember.
Last Wednesday I, mother, Giddy, & Kate Hillard went to Mrs. Bigelow's
reception. Miss H. was asked to recite & she recited the "Swineherd"
(Anderson's) charmingly, & "The Faithful Lovers," which took every one.
"Walk in" Miller was there (I can't spell his name) & lots more.
This morning being Sunday, I took my skates to the Park. The wind was high
& whirled us about fantastically; ladies seated in wicker chairs were
pushed rapidly along the Pond's smooth icy surface by their gentlemen
escorts, tall men kissed the ice or sprawled full length on their backs,
while others flew by like swallows; all this with a church spire peeping
behind hills dappled with snow & sunshine: what more inspiriting than
this?
And now dear Walt.
Good-bye for the present.
HERBERT H. GILCHRIST.
LETTER XLVII
BEATRICE GILCHRIST TO WALT WHITMAN
_33 Warrenton St.
Feb. 16, 1879._
DEAR MR. WHITMAN:
Although not in word, I have thanked you for your letter & papers by
enjoying them thoroughly.
Down at this Dispensary we work just as hard as at the Hospital, but our
spare minutes are our own (no records to write out); our work is under our
own control; we are out in fresh air half the day, sometimes half the
night, making intimate acquaintance with all sorts of people & places &
with far distant parts of Boston.
We have all the responsibility that it is good for young doctors to have,
i. e., in all difficult or obscure & dangerous cases we are obliged to
call in older heads & are obliged to report verbally to the visiting
physician of the month all our cases & our treatment. Only two students
live at the Dispensary--Dr. Wiley (the coloured Philadelphia student you
saw) & myself. In tastes we have much in common & on the whole I prefer to
live with her rather than with any of the other students. We share rooms.
We have a bedroom, a drug-room, a treatment room, waiting room for
patients, & take our meals in the kitchen.
A widow woman with two children housekeeps.
I think Boston a very beautiful city. The public Gardens & Commons in the
busiest part, sloping down from the gilt domed state house on Beacon
hill, threaded by paths in all directions, traversed by the business men,
the fine ladies, the beggars, etc., etc. One broad, sloping path is given
up to the boys who want to coast, temporary wooden bridges being thrown
over the cross paths. Then, crossing South Bay to South Boston is a
beautiful walk I take from one to four times a day. South Boston looks
rather dingy; it is inhabited mostly by artisans & mill hands & fishermen,
but walking up 3rd St., as you cross the lettered streets A, B, C, D,
etc., you look down upon the harbour--on bright days bright blue, & a few
sails to be seen--at sunset the colours of course are reflected
gorgeously.
Somehow or other the sea looks doubly beautiful set in dingy S. Boston.
Far over in the West End too we have patients. Last Tuesday I had twins
all by myself; only one, however, was born alive; the other had been dead
a week. How delightful that you are feeling so much better. Shall you not
be coming to Boston sometime before I leave, 1st June?
The Boston I know is not the Boston I knew in books; I am as far off from
that as if I lived in England--is not the "hub"--I was reminded of that
last Sunday when I had time for once to go to church & went to hear Mr. E.
E. Hale preach and went home to dinner with him....
I like his daughter whom we knew in Philadelphia. She is a clever young
artist. Dr. Wiley is very popular with her patients, far more so than I.
Please remember me to all the Staffords & give my especial love to Mrs.
Stafford. Also to Mrs. Whitman.
Yours affectionately,
BEATRICE C. GILCHRIST.
LETTER XLVIII
ANNE GILCHRIST TO WALT WHITMAN
_112 Madison Ave.
March 18, 1879._
MY DEAREST FRIEND:
I hope you are enjoying this splendid, sunshiny weather as much as we
are--the atmosphere here is delicious. In the morning Giddy and I set at
home busy with needle work, letter writing, and reading. After lunch we go
out for a walk or to pay visits--and of an evening very often to
receptions (but they are not half so jolly as our evenings at
Philadelphia). Still we have a lively, pleasant time. I like Miss Booth
very much, with her kindly, generous character and active practical mind.
So I do Mrs. Croly--she is more impulsive and enthusiastic. Kate Hillard
often goes with us, & she is always good company. I had a note from Edward
Carpenter the other day brought by a lady who had been living near him at
Sheffield--an American lady with two very fine little girls who has lately
lost her husband in England and was on her way back to her parents' home
in Pennsylvania--somewhere beyond Pittsburg. She is one who loves your
poems, & has great hopes of seeing you in New York. She told me her little
girls were so fond of Carpenter he of them--he is first rate with
children. I hope you will not put off coming to New York till we are
returning to Philadelphia, which will be some time in May. I find Beatrice
is so anxious to get further advantages for study in England or Paris
before she begins to practise, and Herby is so strongly advised by Mr.
Eaton, of whose judgment & experience he thinks very highly, to study in
Duron's Studio in Paris for a year, that I have made up my mind to go
back, for a time at any rate, this summer; but I shall leave my furniture
here, and the question of where our future home is to be, open. Herby is
making great progress. I wish you could see the head of an old woman he
has just painted--and I wish he had had as much power when he had such
splendid chances of painting you. I cannot tell you how vividly and
pleasantly Chestnut St. on a sunny day rose before me in your jottings.
Love from us all. Tell your sister I often think of her & shall enjoy a
chat ever so.
A. G.
LETTER XLIX
ANNE GILCHRIST TO WALT WHITMAN
_112 Madison Ave.
March 26, '79._
MY DEAREST FRIEND:
It seems quite a long while since I wrote, & a _very long_ while since you
wrote. I am beginning to turn my thoughts Philadelphia-wards that we may
have some weeks near you before we set out on fresh wanderings across the
sea; and though I feel quite cheery about them, I look eagerly forward to
the time beyond that when we have a fixed, final nest of our own again,
where we can welcome you just when and as you please. Whichever side the
Atlantic it is, you will come surely? for you belong to the one country as
much as to the other. And I shall always feel that I do too. I take back
with me a deep and hearty love for America--I came indeed with a good deal
of that, but what I take back is different--stronger, more real. I went
over to see friends in Brooklyn yesterday, & it was more lovely than I can
tell you on the Ferry--in fact, it was just your poem, "Crossing Brooklyn
Ferry". Herby still painting away _con amore_, & making good progress. I
met Joaquin Miller at the Bigelows last week, & he was very pleasant
(which isn't always the case) and said some very good things to me.
Thursday we are going to lunch with Mrs. Albert Brown--perhaps you may
have heard of her as Bessie Griffiths. She was a Southern lady who, when
she was about 18, freed all her slaves & left herself penniless. On Sunday
we take tea at Prof. Rood's of Columbia College. Kate Hillard we often
see & have lively chats with. We meet also & see a good deal of General
Edward Lee--a fine soldierly looking man, & I believe he distinguished
himself in the war & was afterwards sent to organize the new Territory of
Wyoming, & was the first governor. I wish very much that if you or your
brother knew him or know anything about him, you would tell me--for
reasons that I will tell you by & bye. Bee is seeing a great deal of the
educated coloured people at Boston--was at the meeting of a literary
club--the only white among 20 or 30 coloured ladies--likes them much.
Write soon, dear Friend. Meanwhile, best love & good-bye.
ANNE GILCHRIST.
No letters from England this long while.
Please give friendly greetings from me to your brother & sister.
LETTER L
ANNE GILCHRIST TO WALT WHITMAN
_Glasgow
Friday, June 20, 1879._
MY DEAREST FRIEND:
We set foot on dry land again Wednesday morning after a good passage--not
a very smooth one--and not without four or five days of seasickness, but
after that we really enjoyed the sea & the sky--it was mostly cloudy, but
such lovely lights and shades & invigorating breezes! and as we got up
into northern latitudes, daylight in the sky all night through. The last
three days we had glorious scenery--sailed close in under the Giant's
Causeway on the north coast of Ireland--great sort of natural ramparts &
bastions or rock, wonderfully grand. Then we sailed on Lough Fozle to land
a group of Irish folk at Moville--some of them old people who had not seen
Ireland for forty years, and who were so happy they did not know what to
do with themselves. And what with this human interest, and the first
getting near land again and the rich green-and-golden gorse-covered hills
& the setting sun streaming along the beautiful lough with golden light,
it was a sight & a time I shall never forget. Then we entered the Firth of
Clyde & sailed among the islands--mountainous Arran, level Bute--& on the
other hand the green hills of Ayr, with pleasant towns nestled under them,
sloping to the Clyde--this was during the night--we did not go to bed at
all it was so beautiful--& then came a gorgeous sunrise--& then the
landing at Greenock & a short railway journey to Glasgow, the tide not
serving to bring our big ship up so far. We had very pleasant (& learned
withal) companions on the voyage--the Professor of Greek & of Philosophy
from Harvard and a young student from Concord, all of whom we have seen
since we landed and hope to see often again, especially the young student,
Frank Bigelow, who is a very nice fellow. Herby enjoyed the voyage much &
so did Giddy. Glasgow is a great, solidly built city, very pleasant [in]
spite of smoky atmosphere--full of sturdy, rosy-cheeked people with broad
Scotch accent. We have been rushing about shopping--have not yet seen
Per.--shall meet him at Durham in a week's time & spend a month together
there where he will be superintending your works. Meanwhile we are going
to Edinburgh for a few days. I kept thinking of you on the voyage, dear
friend, & wondering how you would like it--& whether you could stand being
stowed away in the little box-like berth at night. I should recommend any
American friend coming over to try this line--we had a fine ship--fine
officers & crew--& the latter part, fine scenery. Love to your Brother &
Sister & to Mr. Burroughs. Address to me for the present.
Care Percy C. Gilchrist
Blaenavon
Poutzpool
Mon.
Love from us all. I shall write soon again. Good-bye dear Friend.
A. GILCHRIST.
LETTER LI
ANNE GILCHRIST TO WALT WHITMAN
_Lower Shincliffe
Durham
August 2d, '79._
DEAREST FRIEND:
I am sitting in my room with my dear little grandson, the sweetest little
fellow you ever saw, asleep beside me. Giddy and Norah (my 3d daughter)
are gone into Durham to do some shopping. Bee is up in London on her way
to Berne in Switzerland, where she has finally decided to complete her
medical studies. Herby is, I think, staying with Eustace Conway at
Hammersmith just now. He has been spending a week at Brighton with Edward
Carpenter & his family--but I will leave him to tell his own news. We are
lodging in this little village with its red-tiled roofs & gray stone
walls, lying among wooded hills, corn fields, meadows, and collieries on
the banks of the Weir, for the sake of being near Percy & his wife. He is
superintending here the erection of some kilns for making the peculiar
kind of basic firebricks needed in his dephosphorization process. Durham
Cathedral, which was mainly built soon after the Norman conquest, is in
sight, crowning a wooded hill that rises abruptly from the river-side. It
looks as solid, majestic, venerable as the rocks & hills--the interior is
of wonderful grandeur & beauty. When you enter one of these cathedrals you
are tempted to say architecture is a lost art with us moderns so far as
sublimity is concerned--except in vast engineering works. You would not
dignify the Weir with the name of a river in America--it is no bigger than
Timber Creek--but it winds about so capriciously through the picturesque
little city as to make almost an island of the hill on which the castle &
cathedral stand & to need three great solid stone bridges within a quarter
of a mile of each other, & with its steep wooded sides carrying nature
right into the heart of the old town. But the rainy season (we have
scarcely seen the sun since we have been in England & I believe it is the
same in France & Italy) and the great depression in trade, especially the
coal & iron, which chiefly concerns this district, seem to cast a gloom
over everything. There are whole rows of colliers' cottages in this
village empty. Where they go to no one knows, but as soon as the
collieries reopen they will all reappear. We often meet Colliers returning
from work--they look as if they had just emerged from Hades, poor
fellows--their faces black as soot--their lean, bowed legs bare--I believe
the mines are hot here; they work with little on--but they are really the
cleanest of all workmen, as they take a bath every night on their return
before supping. The speech here is almost like a foreign tongue to any one
from the south or middle of England. I wonder if you have yet read Dr.
Bucke's book.[29] It is about the only thing I have read since my return.
It suggests deeply interesting trains of thought.
I wonder if you are at Camden, taking your daily trips across the ferry &
strolls up Chestnut St. I hardly realized till I left it how dearly I love
America--great sunny land of hope and progress--or how my whole life has
been enriched with the human intercourse I had there. Give my love to
those of our friends whom you know & tell them not to forget us. I have
had a long letter from Emma Lazarus. I suppose Hattie and Jessie are
spending their holidays at Camden & that Hattie has pretty well done with
school. We have been chiefly busy with needlework since we came--preparing
dear Bee for Berne. I miss her sadly--had quite hoped we should have all
been together at Paris this winter--but it seems the course is much longer
& more arduous [there]. We spent a week in Edinburgh before we came on
here. It is by far the most beautiful city I have ever seen. The journey
between it and Berwick-on-Tweed lies through the richest & best cultivated
farm land in Britain--the sea sparkling on one side of us & these fertile
fields dotted with splendid flocks & herds--with large comfortable-looking
farmhouses, & here & there an old castle; it was singularly enjoyable. How
I have wished everywhere that you were with us to share the sight--and the
best is that you would return home more than ever proud & rejoicing in
America. It is a land where humanity is having, and is going to have, such
chances as never before. Giddy sends her love. Mine also & to your brother
& sister. Good-bye, dear Friend.
A. GILCHRIST.
Please write soon; I am longing for a letter.
LETTER LII[30]
WALT WHITMAN TO ANNE GILCHRIST
_(Camden, New Jersey.)
(August, 1879.)_
Thank you, dear friend, for your letter; how I should indeed like to see
that _Cathedral_[31], I don't know which I should go for first, the
Cathedral or _that baby_.[32] I write in haste, but I am determined you
shall have a word, at least, promptly in response.
LETTER LIII
ANNE GILCHRIST TO WALT WHITMAN
_1 Elm Villas, Elm Row, Heath St.
Hampstead, Dec. 5, '79, London, England._
MY DEAREST FRIEND:
You could not easily realize the strong emotion with which I read your
last note and traced on the little map[33]--a most precious possession
which I would not part with for the whole world--all your
journeyings--both in youth & now. Mingled emotions! for I cannot but feel
anxious about your health, & if I didn't know it was very naught to ask
you questions, should beg you [to] tell me in what way your health has
failed--whether it is the rheumatic & neuralgic affection that troubled
you the last spring we were in Philadelphia, or whether the fatigues &
excitements & the very enjoyments & full life, & burst of prophetic joy,
as it were, had proved too great a strain. But you have accomplished
another thing, that had to be done in your life & I exult with you--have
seen the vast magnificent theatre, the free, unfettered conditions whereon
humanity will enact a new drama, with the parts all so differently cast!
the rest--the moving spirit of it all--hints of this, at least--flashes,
glimpses, I find in your greatest poems. But, dear Friend, I think
humanity moves forward [slowly] even under splendid conditions--you must
give it a century or two instead of 50 years--before at least the crowning
glories of a corresponding literature & art will develope
themselves--Nature has got plenty of time before her, & obstinately
refuses to be hurried; witness her dealings with the mere rocks & stones.
Bee is at Berne, working away merrily, rejoicing in the really splendid
advantage for medical study there open to her. She mastered German so as
to be able to speak & understand it--lectures & all--with ease during the
two months at Wiesbaden & she has found a thoroughly comfortable home with
some excellent, intelligent ladies who are fond of her & see to her bodily
welfare in every possible way. I have my dear little grandson with me
here--as engaging a little toddler as the sun ever shone upon--so
affectionate & sweet-tempered & bright. I wish I could see him sitting on
your knee. You will certainly have to come to us as soon as ever we have a
comfortable home, won't you? Giddy is well & as rosy as ever. She & Herby
send their love. I have seen Rossetti--he was full of enquiries &
affectionate interest in all that concerns you--& loth we were to break
off our conversation & hurry back--but Hampstead, the pleasantest &
prettiest of all our suburbs, is terribly inaccessible & cuts us off a
good deal from the intercourse with old friends I had looked forward to.
It is on the top of a high hill (as high as the top of St. Pauls), & looks
down on one side over the great city with its canopy of smoke, & on the
other over a wide, pleasant stretch of green & fertile Middlesex--has
moreover pleasant lanes, solid old houses, shaded by big elms, & other
picturesque features & such an abundance of keen, fresh air this cold
weather too! We sigh for the warmth of an American house indoors often &
for American sunshine out of doors. Rossetti has a beautiful little group
of children growing up around him--I think the eldest girl will grow up a
real beauty & the boy too is a noble little fellow. I meet numbers so
delighted to hear about you. I believe Addington Symonds is preparing a
book which treats largely of your Poems.
Glad to hear that Brother & Sister & nieces are all well. I wish I could
write to some of them, but what with needlework, an avalanche of letters,
the care of my dear little man--the re-editing of my husband's life of
Blake, to which there will be a considerable addition of letters newly
come to light, I hardly know which way to turn. Per. & my nephew & the
"Process" have made a great stride forward. Won two important law suits at
Berlin, where the Bessemer ring & Krupp at their head were trying to oust
them of their patent rights. Also it is practically making good way in
England. So by & bye the money will begin to flow in, I suppose--but has
not done so yet.
I trust, dearest Friend, this will find you safe & fairly well again at
Camden, with plenty of great, happy thoughts to brood over for the winter.
Love from us all. Good-bye.
ANNE GILCHRIST.
LETTER LIV
ANNE GILCHRIST TO WALT WHITMAN
_5 Mount Vernon
Hampstead
Jan. 25, '80._
MY DEAREST FRIEND: